Breathing heavily, Jon Snow had to use every ounce of muscle he had left not to collapse into the sand below him. His ragged features were illuminated by the dancing light of a few dying torches, their orange flames split into thousands of brilliant shards by the glass that seemed to encase the cave walls.
Samwell had been right; when one of the stark men had found a small gap in the rock face of the cliffs, they had discovered miles of cave systems brimming with dragonglass. There was enough crystal to fill a small fleet, nevermind the sole ship that he had arrived on, and Jon had already begun to think about who to delegate the task of making numerous trips to Dragonstone to. He had been working without any respite, save for small breaks to eat or sleep, mining like a man possessed. Jon knew that he had to make up for lost time, and pushed his companions and his body to their physical limits. Now, Jon certainly felt as though he had reached that limit.
The whole of dragonstone was a very damp place: water hung in the air surrounding the island like a veil. As far as Jon was concerned, the caves were a thousand times worse. Mere minutes in the tunnels led to being drenched in sweat and brine, the hot air making his skin feel sticky with salt. Jon sat on the sand and thought of the frigid, dry air of Winterfell. He thought of the bite of the northern winds on his face, the feel of fresh snow on his exposed skin. He longed to walk through the godswood, to be at peace in the cold and the silence: Jon knew he would be waiting a long time.
Jon closed his eyes, his mind comfortably numb, his body aching and sore. He lay there against the cave wall, the obsidian poking into his back, the hot, wet air filling his lungs, making him heave and cough. Sighing in defeat, he stood groggily, his sleep deprived body making hard work of the walk towards the mouth cave.
After what felt like an eternity he emerged, the dense, heavy air of the caverns replaced by a light breeze. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, the smell of the sea washing over him. The midnight blue sky was beginning to brighten in the west, the cooler turquoise hues signaling that it was very early in the morning. Jon saw Davos and the rest of his men sprawled out on the sand, sleeping on makeshift beds and blankets, no doubt exhausted from their efforts. With a start, Jon realized this was the first time he had been outside since they had found the Dragonglass; he had been so consumed with the excitement of their discovery that he had worked himself into the ground, not leaving the cave for what must have been days on end.
Finally feeling as though he could breathe once more, Jon sunk into the sand, and rested at last, the wind tousling his hair and his eyelids closed.
….
Daenerys hadn't seen hide nor hair of her Northern guest for four days. Varys had reported that he and his entire delegation had disappeared into an opening in a rocky outcropping a mile south of the castle. At night, when she looked out over the jagged expanse of the island, she could faintly make out the dim light that their campfires gave off; that was her only reassurance that they were still on the island. While Daenerys did not seek Jon Snow out, her thoughts had been consumed by the King in the North, and the message that he bore. Since her dream of Viserion, her concrete disbelief in the army of the dead had begun to fracture and crumble; Daenerys was not easily unsettled, but the icy blue stare of her undead child had moved something inside of her, and shaken her to her core.
As the sun rose, painting the sky a pale yellow, Daenerys decided it was time to reconvene with Jon Snow. She dressed herself in an ashy black coat with crimson flames embroidered on her bosom, a length of silver chain clasped to her shoulder by a three headed Dragon pin.
The sun was high in the sky, and the air was still when Dany began her trek towards the cave. She walked alone, her eyes searching for signs of life on the beach as she grew ever closer. Daenerys had no idea what she why she was going to see Jon: was she going to check on his progress in the mine? Or was her purpose to tell him about her dream: about Viserion? Was she going to let a stranger into her mind's eye? Was she going to let a stranger know what had made her recent nights sleepless? Was she going to see him because she was attracted to him?
Dany shook her head at the ridiculousness of her last train of thought. Jon Snow was an attractive man: she would have had to have been blind to deny it, but she knew that she had little time to pursue her base instincts. Still, her choice of outfit accentuated her curves, drawing the eye of the observer to her physical assets, and deny it as she might, part of her knew that she had worn it incase Jon's eyes were drawn as well.
There was something about the upstart King that fascinated Dany; his passion, his selflessness. It went beyond physical appearance; Daenerys knew that despite their rather unpleasant first exchange, there was much more to the handsome northerner than was on display.
Voices hailed her as she drew within a hundred yards of the camp; a haphazard semi circle of makeshift beds arranged around a large fire pit, the embers still smoldering from the previous blaze. Davos Seaworth strode towards her, his face covered with dust and a sheen of sweat. The older man had shed the cloak he had worn during their audience and was now dressed in only a tunic, the sleeve on his left arm torn, the skin underneath slightly bloodied. To say that he looked worse for wear was a dramatic understatement.
"Your grace," he rasped, his voice scratchy from long hours of use. "I'm afraid none of us are very presentable at the moment," he said smiling down at her, humor lining his words. She returned his grin in kind, and spoke in a lighthearted tone. "I was just coming to check how on how you were faring," she said, "I'm afraid that I've been a rather negligent host."
Davos chuckled at her words, shaking his head. "I'm afraid we've been rather unappreciative guests, your grace. Jon's been working us very hard down here, and our ship is almost full." He gestured out at the boat that had been returned to them when the mining had begun, its sailings still in the breeze, the snarling Direwolf motionless. Danys smile faltered for a moment; she had to speak to Jon before he left. She had to tell him about her dream.
"And where is Lord Snow," she inquired, emphasizing her intentional misuse of royal nomenclature. If Davos noticed, he showed no sign of it, instead turning towards the cave.
"Come," he beckoned, "I'll take you to him."
As Daenerys stepped into the cave, her breath hitched at the sight in front of her. Supposedly the northerners had been working in this area for days on end, yet she saw barely a trace of any mining. Dragon glass glittered down at her from all side, its jagged edges protruding outwards like so many black teeth. Standing near the entrance to the cave, bathed in the cool light from outside, Daenerys saw herself reflected a million times in the crystals around her. Such was her enthrallment that Davos had to touch her on the shoulder to bring her out of her stupor.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, an expression awe plastered on her face, "I had no idea any of this was here." Davos looked up at the ceiling and saw himself standing next to Daenerys in countless jagged, black mirrors. "It's as beautiful as it is important," he said, turning to face the young woman who stood beside him, "this discovery will make a huge difference in our chances for survival." As Dany looked at him, Davos noticed the lack of reproach that had been present when Jon first presented the topic of the risen dead. "Yes," she said softly, "I'm beginning to believe it will."
….
Winding their way through the seemingly endless maze of caverns, Dany and Davos passed dozens of stark bannermen, plugging away at their menial tasks, grunting with effort as they sheared shards of obsidian off of the walls and ceilings. Daenerys knew that they were approaching the king in the north when she could hear the clicking of pickaxe on stone, without the accompaniment of the human sounds. She was fitting, she supposed, that he be so intent on his task that he made no noise, save for that of his tool dislodging crystals from the wall in front of him. When he finally came into view around a bend in the tunnels, she thought that she had never seen a monarch appear so unregal. Unlike Davos, Jon had removed his tunic and only wore a loose fitting shirt over his upper body, his lower body still covered by his leather trousers. He worked with efficient ferocity, multiple pieces of dragonglass falling to the floor with each pass of his pickaxe. Where his hair had previously been pulled back in a tight knot behind his head, his dark locks fell freely around his face now, swinging in front of his eyes with each movement of his arms. His face, like Davos's, was covered in dirt, and Dany could see the bags under his eyes from a few feet away. In that instant, she wondered if he had slept at all since they had found these caves.
Jons eyes were drawn to the warm light emanating from the torch that his advisor was carrying, and seemed to do a double take when he beheld who was standing before n of him. With a small laugh that carried no humor, he let his pickaxe fall next to the floor, the impact raising a small cloud of black sediment.
"I'll leave you two to it then," Davos said, and left back the way that they he and Dany had come. The light in the room was reduced to a dim glow, the only source being a sputtering torch between the two monarchs. Daenerys's stomach did a flip at the idea that she a was alone with Jon Snow, who, despite looking quite ragged, was still incredibly attractive.
"What do you think," Jon asked her, interrupting her fanciful thoughts, making a sweeping motion in a wide arc around the cavern. Once again, Dany took a moment to admire the splendor of her surroundings, and steal a glance at Jon's uncovered arms.
"I had no idea any of this was here…it's truly incredible," she said, repeating what she had told Davos. Jon smiled up at the crystals, his eyes full of hope.
"I was hoping that you would come and see it, before we hacked it all to pieces," he smiled at her, and her stomach flipped again, "this is more than we'll ever need."
"I'm glad that I could help you, Jon. And... well I'm sorry about our introduction," she hesitated for a moment, before continuing, "There's something I need to tell you." Jon nodded, and walked towards her, pulling the torch off of the wall next to him. "And there's something I need to show you," he said, offering her his hand. Nervously, she placed her hand in his, hoping that she looked much calmer on the outside than she felt within. His palms and fingers were rough with calluses, but his grip was gentle and welcoming. He led her further into the darkness of the tunnels, and before she could question what she was doing, Jon stopped in front of her .
They stood in the center of a large cavern, and where the walls were devoid of obsidian, they were covered in something far more peculiar. Dany gazed at the cave paintings, the orange glow of the torch illuminating the primitive depictions.
"What are these?" she asked without facing Jon. He too was staring up at the drawings, his attention focused on a set of detailed figures that Dany could not quite make out. Jon heard the Dragon Queen walk closer to him, and turned when she stopped suddenly. Carefully, deliberately, Daenerys pointed at the likeness of the two white walkers, their eyes a chilling frost blue.
"White Walkers," Jon said, his voice grim. Dany turned his violet gaze to meet his, their faces inches apart, her expression one of unguarded terror.
"I know," came her breathless reply, "I dreamed of them."
This was the most difficult chapter to write. Theres a lot of middle ground to slog through right now; I'm so excited about the ending that I have planned out, and I'm hoping that you all will be too. Please, give me feedback and let me know how I'm doing. If you have any suggestions or notice any flaws in the characters, constructive criticism is never a bad thing. Thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed, I'll try to keep the steady stream of content coming. Chapter 4 was the longest I had written at about 1.98K words, but this one surpasses that at 2.3K! I hope that my writing is becoming more consistent and enjoyable as we go as well, as I get back into the creative swing of things.
Thanks for reading!